


We Ain't Ashes

by Noenoe



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-03-27 01:56:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13870653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noenoe/pseuds/Noenoe
Summary: Daryl Dixon was known for his hunting & tracking skill. But he was also known as the sweet Dixon with a soft heart. Betrayed by Rick, takeb captive by Negan. Daryl has to make hard choices to ensure safety of those he cared about.





	1. Chapter 1

Merle Dixon said it best. “My baby brother was always the sweet one.”

Daryl always tried his best for his mother, he tried not to be the kind of man his dad and brother was. He did not steal, he did not start fights. He always brought his mother a flower home from school, but she was not strong enough. Her life ended when Daryl was still a small boy. That day he was playing with some of the neighbourhood boys. He only went over to the park, because they all had bikes and little Daryl hoped one of them would allow him to ride his bike. When the boys saw the firetrucks, they all jumped on their bikes, chasing the sirens. Little Daryl ran as fast as he could after them. They all stood waiting for him, looking at him. It was then that Daryl realized the firetrucks came for his house.

Will Dixon moved himself and his two sons out to his old hunting cabin. Merle started getting into more fights at school, spending longer stints in juvie. Still Daryl was the sweet one. He cleaned the cabin as best he could. He suffered in silence as his father whipped him. He never complained about the smelly outhouse, with the corny sickle moon carved into the door. He never once complained because he had to wash in ice cold water. He did not even cry when he got lost in the woods. It hurt when he realized nobody cared enough about Daryl Dixon to realize he had been missing. The teachers did not come to his house, looking for him. Merle could not care since he was in juvie, once again. His dad sure did not care, because he had been with a waitress from the bar three towns over.

When Merle came for him, he left with his older brother. Merle was no angel and nobody knew that better than Daryl. But Merle was his brother and he loved him. And in his own way Merle loved Daryl. Daryl may have been the only person Merle Dixon ever cared about and truly loved. For the sake of his brother Merle tried quite a few times to curb his whoring, to stop using drugs. Those times were the best memories Daryl had of Merle. Just the two of them, doing whatever other normal brothers do. But sooner or later Merle would leave again. At first he would come home drunk a few nights of the week, then he would smoke the occasional joint and before you know it, Merle lost his job, he was drunk and high every second of the day and the dragged Daryl away from the little life he built.

It was really sad if one would stop a moment and really think about it. Merle did not lie when he said nobody would love Daryl like he did. Because it was the truth. Merle Dixon would have crawled buck ass naked through hell and back if it meant Daryl was safe and happy.

Daryl’s kind heart stopped Merle when Merle wanted to rob the small group of survivors blind at the quarry. Merle saw an easy target, Daryl saw the women and children. Vulnerable and unprotected. The men Daryl could stomach had been either too old (Dale), too young (Glenn) or too naïve (T-Dog). He recognized Will Dixon in the face of Ed Peletier, the same abusive drunken cunt of a man, who would willingly throw his wife and child to the walkers if it meant he would survive one day longer. Morales only worried about his own family and would not have protected the others, his own family came first in Morales’ little book of conduct. It had been both wrong and not wrong in Daryl’s mind. A real man should always put his wife and children first, but a real man would also step up and protect everyone, not just his own. Jim spent his day tinkering away at the ancient RV of Dale and his nights missing the family whom he could not save. And Shane Walsh? Walsh reminded Daryl of the old mongrel dog they had.

The dog seemed friendly enough, wagged his tail at all the right times, friendly with children too, but there was something missing in that animal. And every now and again the dog would become aggressive for no apparent reason and bite whatever happened to be closest to him. Will Dixon refused to do anything to the dog, laughing the attacks off, calling them a bunch of pussies, until the day the dog took a chunk out of Will’s left ass cheek, would have ripped his dick off if Will did not manage to turn around. Then it was not a joke and Will Dixon beat the dog’s skull in with a rock.

But that was Shane Walsh. He seemed friendly, he laughed and joked around, but every now and again Daryl would see the shift in his eyes, just looking for somebody to bite. Daryl stayed far away from Walsh on those days. It was not as if he was scared of Walsh, it was just that he and Merle had been outnumbered and if they left nobody would be there to protect the women and children.

Daryl knew he should have packed his shit and leave the moment he learned that Rick Grimes cuffed Merle to a rooftop and left him to die in Atlanta. Even now Daryl can still see the satisfied look on Lori’s face when her husband and her lover informed him that they left his brother cuffed to the roof like some rabid fucking animal. But he stayed, because he needed to know where they left Merle. He stayed because he had to help rescue Glenn from the Vatos. He stayed with the group when they found their ride missing. He led them back to the quarry, because he knew they would either take the scenic route back (which would have taken longer and most probably everybody in the camp would have died, but at least they would not have gotten lost) or try to be smarty pants and take a short cut through the woods (which would have resulted in them getting hopelessly lost and still too late to save people back at the camp).

So Daryl took them back to the camp, he helped with the walker attack, fuck he even helped clearing the dead things away. He did not even lose his temper much when Rick pointed his Colt Python at his head (AGAIN). He only reminded them that it was their punishment for leaving his brother behind in Atlanta. He had seen Merle’s hand and he realized the moment he picked Merle’s hand up on that rooftop that they left him for longer than the night and morning they claimed. Daryl may not have obtained a fancy college decree like Andrea, but it did not mean he was stupid. He saw the signs, Merle’s hand had been there for more than a day.

Would Rick ever have gone back into Atlanta if it had not been for the bag of guns? Daryl’s foolishly soft heart liked to bullshit his brain that Rick was an honourable man and that he would have gone back for Merle. But deep down Daryl knew the truth. Rick went back for the bag of guns and his stupid fucking hat and Merle had been mere collateral. Something that would not make Rick Grimes seem like not such an asshole. Because most of the camp had been horrified that they left somebody to die, even if it was just Merle Dixon.

So Daryl stayed with the group. Because he did not want to be alone. Because he needed to protect those who needed his protection, even if they would have drunk acid before admitting that. He followed them to the CDC and nearly got turned into ash when Jenner tried to end their lives along with his.

Daryl saw the little cracks in Walsh and Rick. The madness had been growing in Walsh and the man had been hanging onto his sanity by the edge of his teeth. It just made him shy away from Walsh more. But he also saw the instability in Rick Grimes. The cool and calm way he led the group right into a tomb. Back then Daryl convinced himself that Rick was just worried about his family and all those under his protection.

Daryl stayed with the group on the farm. Going out into the woods every day, searching for a little girl that was not his to begin with. He risked his life and only Carol deemed it necessary to thank him. He bled for the group, he nearly died for them, he took an arrow in the side and nearly a bullet to the brain for them. He tortured another human being for them. And all Daryl ever hear was Rick snide comment that they were now safe on a farm and that Daryl did not owe them anything. The meaning clear, get lost Dixon, we don’t need you anymore. But they did need him. Because the farm fell. Because Hershel kept a head of cattle in the open, because Rick and Walsh did not even take those wanting to learn how to shoot far enough away from the farm to teach them. They had been ringing the dinner bell loud and clear and Daryl had been surprised the farm stood as long as it had.

He defended Rick to Carol that first night after the farm. He should have left with Carol. They would have made it, but he stayed and he convinced her to stay as well, because the people that needed his protection grew. They lost so many people since the day they left for the CDC.

Jim was bitten and chose to become a walker. Maybe he hoped he would find his family and be with them once again. Jacqui stayed behind with Jenner and committed suicide.

Sophia was the one that hurt the most. Rick should have protected her. Damn, he took out a walker, hid T-Dog before dragging a corpse over himself, laying in the open while the herd passed them by. How hard could it be to carry a little girl and get her safely back to her mother? The days Daryl spent searching for Sophia, hoping he would find her, only to learn she had been in the barn the whole time. Nobody cared one bit that he had to be the one restraining Carol when the walker that used to be Sophia came stumbling from the barn.

They lost Dale, all because Carl could not keep his nose out of other people’s business, because Lori and Rick were the shittiest parents on the planet, never knowing what their offspring had been up to. If only they kept a better eye on the boy, but they were so wrapped up in their own little drama, the affair between Lori and Walsh coming to light and Lori’s pregnancy (and everybody just knew it was a little Walsh growing inside her), they did not see what their son had been up to.

Daryl could not bear to see the old man suffer. Rick standing there with the gun in his hand, the same damn gun Grimes enjoyed shoving every ten seconds in Daryl’s face. Still Rick could not end the misery. Because Rick did not want to be seen as an asshole. Because he did not want the people in the group to see him as a monster. It would not do if they believed him to be the kind of person who would murder harmless old men, now would it? So Daryl took the Python from Grimes’ slack fingers and granted Dale one final mercy. No human being should suffer so horribly when there was a way to ease their pain and misery.

During their escape from the farm they lost Andrea, Patricia and Jimmy. He nearly lost Carol too. But Rick stopped worrying when he saw Lori was fine. He did not care about Andrea and what might have happened to her.

Daryl stayed, because he was the only one able to feed the group. He knew he could have taken off and it would not have been only Carol following him, but if he did that, then Carl, Lori and the unborn baby would have been alone with Rick. 

Rick’s sanity took a big dip when Lori died in childbirth. Daryl understood, fuck, the man just lost his wife. But for fuck’s sake, his son and the baby he claimed as his were still there. They still needed him. But no, Rick spent days holed up doing God knows what. It was only later that Daryl learned about the hallucinations, the phantom phone calls with his dead wife. Daryl stepped up and made sure the baby had food and all the other little things a baby may need.

The only time Daryl begged them for something, they turned him away. They wanted him to abandon his brother again. Merle was still the same old asshole he had been, but he was his brother. His only family. And Merle sacrificed everything to be with his brother and in the end he even sacrificed his life to make sure his baby brother lived one more day. 

Only Carol came to him after he had been forced to put his own brother down. They did not even allow him to bury Merle with the others. So he had to bury Merle on the outside, as if Merle had been a leper. Only Carol asked him how he was doing. Rick did not care, he just shoved more responsibilities onto Daryl. Daryl never told, but he heard Rick that night. Rick and Michone were talking. She tried telling Rick about Merle and what the man did, but Rick would have none of it. And Daryl realized the only person who would mourn Merle Dixon’s death would be him. And one day, when he dies, there would be nobody left to mourn his passing.

Rick let the people from Woodbury in, forcing Daryl to make nice with them. The same assholes who had been screaming for his death not that long ago. The same people who spat at him and wanted Merle to beat him to death. But Daryl endured, because of his damn soft heart. Because he did not want to be alone.

Daryl never quite forgave Rick for sending Carol away after she killed Karen and David. He knows what she did was wrong, but she only tried to protect everybody else in the prison. Rick’s excuse? He would not have her near his children. Lil’ Asskicker was still a baby and Carol would never hurt a baby and Carl was not the innocent little boy Rick tried to pretend he was. Daryl saw the look Rick gave Hershel when the old man told them about the boy in the woods, the boy whom Carl killed in cold blood.

His fear of being alone and the burning need to protect those around him, nearly caused him to be beaten to death by Joe and his merry little band of assholes. Not that either of the Grimes men or Michone asked him about his health. Daryl did not want to go to Terminus, he did not trust the signs and the moment he saw the place, he did not trust it. The place seemed too normal, the front gate was not even locked and it did not seem as if there were any sentries.

They nearly lost their lives there, if it had not been for Carol. The same woman Rick banished, because he would not let her near his children. The same woman who protected his daughter.

Make no mistake, Gareth and his family of cannibals had been a danger. If anybody deserved to die and die violently it had been them. But to murder them in a church? Not even Merle would have stooped so low.

He could have saved Beth. He would have been able to bring her back to Maggie. But Rick just had to go and execute the third cop. Noah warned him, hell those three cops warned him all about Dawn and her mental issues. Daryl lost so much that day. He lost a girl, no woman, he vowed to protect. He lost his last shred of innocence that day.

He did not mind that everybody consoled Maggie, Beth had been her sister after all. Carol, Glenn and Maggie saw his pain and the guilt he carried. They could smell the anguish rolling from him. They tried to console him. They tried him to open up, but Daryl never could cry in front of other people. It was only a month after Beth and him killing Dawn, that Rick even attempted to talk to Daryl about it. Probably only after Maggie, Glenn and Carol bitched long enough in his ears. But Rick did not really want to know. He wanted to make sure Daryl was not about to lose sight of his purpose in their group. 

He was their hunter, the one that found water, food and shelter. He was their hunting dog, their guard dog, their rescue dog and their attack dog. A broken dog was about as much worth as a lame horse. 

When they found Alexandria, or rather when Alexandria found them, Daryl hoped for peace. But Rick’s grip on his sanity had been slipping more and more by then. The way he pursued a married woman and killing her husband. The way he promised that he would take Alexandria if those inside did not follow his lead.

Daryl’s bleeding heart took him right to Negan. Even though he did not know it at the time. All he wanted to do was help the three people in the woods. His reward for helping? Hit over the head, his bike stolen and having to fire the first shot in this stupid little war. In all fairness he only defended his own life and those of Abraham and Sasha.

Everything led to this moment. Right now. Sitting in the dirt, with a bullet in his shoulder, surrounded by those he liked to call ‘friend’, even though the majority would not even claim Daryl Dixon as a casual acquaintance. 

 

Daryl was flitting between awake and unconscious. He missed most of Negan’s little speech. He wished to God he could have missed Negan bashing Abraham’s head in. Abraham could very well have been the biggest douchebag in the world, he deserved a punch in the face for the way he treated Rosita and the callous manner in which he dumped her, but it did not mean having his head bashed in by a maniac. When Negan taunted Rosita with the bloody baseball bat, Daryl lost his temper. He knew he should not have punched the man, fuck he knew it the moment his body rose from the ground, long before his fist connected with Negan’s jaw. But sometimes he could not help it. He was a Dixon and Dixon’s were known for their volatile tempers.

Daryl really believed Negan would bash his head in. He deserved it.

If only he had been better then his parents would not have been so careless and cold towards their children.

If only he had been better then his Ma would not have drunk herself into an early grave, burning herself, the house and damn near the whole trailer park down.

If only he had been better then his Pa would not have beaten and starved him.

If only he had been better then Merle would not have been in trouble with the law since the moment he could walk, he would not have used every drug available, he would not have been handcuffed to a roof in Atlanta and dying a horrible lonely death in the field halfway between Woodbury and the prison.

If only he had been better then Dale would not have gotten bitten.

If only he had been better then Andrea would not have gotten separated from the group, falling into the clutches of Brian, the psychotic self-proclaimed Governor and dying in the dirty little room in Woodbury.

If only he had been better then Hershel would not have first lost his leg and then his life, all because Daryl had been too lazy to search for the Governor.

If only he had been better then he would not have lost Beth.

He made the long list of all his failures, his failure to protect Amy, Sophia, Dale, Hershel, T-Dog, Oscar, Axel, Bob, Beth, Merle, Tyrese, Denise and now Glenn.

Daryl was not even surprised when Negan loaded him up, proclaiming ownership of the hunter. He was not surprised when Negan stripped him naked and shoved him in that dark dank little cell. He was surprised when Negan allowed their doctor to treat the bullet wound.

Daryl lost count of the days he spent in the darkness. Shivering on the ice cold cement floor, with not so much as a towel to cover his shame. At least Negan gave him a bottle of water each day and every now and again Dwight, the fucking douchebag, he hopes that whatever happened to the left side of his face fucking hurt like shit, would shove a piece of bread in his hand, filled with dogfood.

Clearly Dwight never knew hunger. The things Daryl had to eat just to survive and that had been long before the world ended. As a child Daryl used to dumpster dive, searching for food, on more than one occasion he had to fight off just to eat. He ate squirrel, opossum, lizards and snakes long before the rest of the world had to adapt. After munching on a piece of Fido on their way to Alexandria, not even the sight of dogfood could unsettle Daryl.

Beth had been right. He was made for this world. Where others would have to be really hungry before eating live worms, Daryl just shook most of the dirt from their slimy bodies, before popping it into his mouth.

Daryl may not be too sure about himself, he may have trouble expressing his feelings and tolerating human contact, but Daryl knew how to survive.

He would survive this hellhole. He will survive the cold, wet and dark cell. Fuck he’ll even survive that stupid fucking song. Negan does not understand. There is nothing left of Daryl Dixon to break.

Carol once said she felt like she was being consumed by fire, that she was turning into ashes, ready to fall to the ground and blow away in the wind. But Daryl knew they weren’t ashes, some of the others had been, but people like him and Carol? They weren’t ashes, the fire did not consume them. They used the fire like a forge, and what was left after the fire was a weapon.

 

Negan stood on the other side of Daryl Dixon’s cell.

“That there is one tough motherfucker. I don’t think he’s gonna break Dwighty boy.”

“He’ll break Negan. He just does not know it yet. It will take longer than most, but he’ll break. Just wait and see.”


	2. Chapter 2

Time lost all meaning for Daryl, he could have been in that room for a day or a year. All he knew it was always dark, cold and wet. He knew he was naked. He knew somebody would visit his cell and give him a bottle of water. He measured his days by the bottles of water. For all he knew Negan only gave him once every two or three days water. But Daryl Dixon, like the rest of humanity just had to measure time. So he measured his days starting with a bottle of water.

After every third bottle of water, Daryl would be given two slices of old, hard bread, filled with rank smelling dogfood.

Five bottles of water after he was thrown in the cell and Dwight took him to see the doctor. The visit had not been pleasant. The bandage had been ripped from his tender shoulder, the doctor prodded and poked the wound, sounding rather surprised that infection did not set in, especially since Negan forbade him to give antibiotics to Daryl. Daryl could have told the doctor and Negan all about Dixons and how tough they really were, but he had not been in a sharing mood.

The sixth bottle of water had been delivered. Time passed and Dwight opened the door. Daryl could not help himself, he shrank a bit into himself, trying to cover his naked body. The light from the outside of his cell burned his eyes. Making him squint. It reminded Daryl of a time when he had been a small boy. How his father would whip him, before locking him in a small room, until he learned his lesson. Funny thing though, Daryl had never been quite too sure what he had done wrong in the first place.

Dwight shook the sloppy sandwich in Daryl’s direction. Daryl wished he was stronger, he wished he could have told Dwight were to shove that sandwich, but he was hungry and he wanted to survive. So he took it and he ate it. He did not even grimace. Negan and his merry little band of motherfuckers knew nothing about being a Dixon.

When Daryl did not refuse the sandwich, Dwight sighed and left the room. Daryl ate his sandwich in silence. He had just finished with his meal when that stupid fucking song started. It played over and over, the woman’s voice grated on Daryl’s last nerve. The song was too upbeat, too happy. Daryl wondered about the woman who sang this song, he never even realized something like this had been around. He could very well believe that the girl singing was the only child of a very rich old bastard. Daddy’s little princess decided she wanted to be a popstar and Daddy’s money paved the way for this monstrosity. Daryl wondered if the police or the FBI used this song to end a standoff. The CIA most certainly used this song. He could just see them down at Gitmo, shoving splinters and shit under the fingernails of their prisoners, all to the beat of this stupid fucking song. Fuck, he was ready to claim responsibility for being the shadowy figure on the grassy knoll when JFK was shot. Hell, he will even confess to being Jack the Ripper if they just stopped playing it over and over and over again.

But still Daryl did not break. He tried covering his ears. He punched the door, the wall, he even tried punching himself. He kicked the door over and over again, hoping the clanging of the door would drown that cheerful bitch’s voice out. But still Daryl refused to cry. He refused to beg.

The tenth bottle of water came and with him Dwight. In his hands were not the dogfood sandwich, but an oversized filthy top and a baggy pair of sweat pants. Daryl knew he was about to be taken out of his cell, maybe to see the doctor, maybe to see Negan. At least they shut that song off.

Daryl Dixon never really cared what people thought of him. Hell, before, they heard the name Dixon and believed they knew everything about him. Because of his Pa and Merle people just assumed he must be bad news. They believed he was a drunk and a drug user. They believed he would have fucked everything female, starting with his own Ma and ending with the squirrels in the woods. They all believed he had a criminal record and spent time behind bars. Shit, even Beth thought he spent time in jail.

He had been so angry and disappointed in the girl that night. He may have been a nobody, nothing but driftwood in Merle’s wake, but he had his honour. He did not steal, he did not use drugs, he did not rape. He may have killed a few people, but it had always been to defend others or save his own life. The first person he killed in his life had been Dale and that had not been murder, it had been mercy.

Before, Daryl never minded when parents grabbed their children whenever they saw him walking down the street. He never cared if he got blood or dirt on his clothes. But the filth on his body bothered him now. He stank, every last bit of him stank to the high heavens. His breath smelled like something died in his mouth. The clothes smelled of vomit and piss and fuck it all, it was not even his piss and vomit! Daryl could smell the blood, dirt and fuck knows how many days (weeks?) worth of sweat.

Shuffling behind that scarred limp dick of a coward, Daryl was pissed off. He stank, he was tired, cold and miserable. His shoulder throbbed and he was weak. He would never be able to escape in this condition. But still he would not kneel before Negan. They will not break him. He will get his chance and escape from this hellhole. The only person he would ever kneel to was Maggie, she was the only one who had the right to break him and kill him. If it had not been for him, she would not have lost her whole damn family. And make no mistake, Daryl not only felt responsible, he damn well knew he was responsible for the deaths of Hershel, Beth and Glenn. Hershel died because he gave up looking for the Governor, Beth died because he had been too slow to save her from those assholes at Grady Memorial Hospital and Glenn died because he could not curb his temper.

Dwight opened the door to the doctor’s office. The man was just finishing with his previous patient, a bit pissed because Dwight never got the knack for knocking on the bloody door, just barging in. Dwight has been the talk of the Sanctuary, not because people suddenly respected him, but because they were laughing behind his back. The man became more of Negan’s bitch, than any of Negan’s wives were. Unfortunately Dwight’s position as Negan’s number one bitch, gave the scarred man an overinflated sense of security and an ego to match. He believed himself to be untouchable.

“I’m sorry, maybe next time.”

The girl on the chair blushed, before adjusting her clothing. She hopped down and made to leave. As she looked up, both Sherry and Daryl recognized each other. Sherry lost what little colour remained in her face. It was her fault that Daryl was here. Dwight hated Daryl because he wanted to be even more like Daryl than he wanted to be like Negan. 

If only she did not convince Dwight to come crawling back to Negan. But she had made her choices and now she had to live with them. Daryl told them they were going to be sorry, and oh boy, was he right. Negan burned the left half of Dwight’s face as punishment, it could have been worse, Negan wanted to bash Dwight’s head in. She had to marry Negan and allow him to fuck her whenever he feels like it. 

And here she was once again, being prodded and poked by the doctor. Half of her hoping Negan had managed to knock her up, because then he would leave her alone until the baby is born the other half screaming that there was no fucking way in hell she would ever consent to carry the spawn of Satan.

She raised her arm hesitantly, “Daryl…”

Dwight knocked her arm down, “Don’t talk to him. Don’t even look at him.”

Sherry’s eyes dropped to the ground. Dwight hated her, he had every right to. But she had been scared that day in the woods. She just lost her sister and she was afraid that Negan would never stop looking for them, she was afraid that Dwight was going to die, just like Tina had and then she would be all alone and defenseless in a cruel world. So she made a decision and condemned them both to hell. Did Dwight believe for one second she liked having Negan’s paws all over her, that she enjoyed kissing him, that she loved having to spread her legs to the man and letting him fuck her?

The first few times, after he spilled his seed in her, she had to clamp down the urge to start screaming and scrubbing herself raw in the shower. It was never rape, because the man had absolute rules about rape, no was no, and even now, he would ask whichever wife he wanted in his bed, if she wanted to. So it was always consensual, Negan never fucked them if they said no, but why does it still feel like rape? Why does she feel like a whore? Deep down Sherry knew the answer to that question, it was because she was one now. She was selling her body for the luxury of a soft bed, nice clothes and as much food as she wanted, without earning it. She sold her body and soul because she had been too afraid to be left alone. And in the process she damned the only man she ever loved to be scarred, to be a broken little bitch to Negan. She forces him to watch as Negan fondled her breasts and even slip a finger into her, waiting for Dwight to lose his temper, just waiting for her real husband to step out of line.

Negan entered the doctor’s office. He knew Sherry missed her period and hoped, maybe this time one of his wives were pregnant. It bothered him that he had been unable to impregnate any of his five wives, lord knows he was neither impotent nor sterile. He grinned when he saw Dwight there. He loved to torment the man. Dwight folded faster than a wet paper napkin, he did not even try and convince his wife not to marry Negan. That he would rather die. These days Dwight tried to prove himself as Negan’s number one soldier. But Negan respected Dwight about as much as he respected Rick Grimes.

As Negan was kissing and fondling Sherry, his eyes drifted over to the hunter. Now there was a man he respected. Four weeks in that cell and the man did not break. He slept on the cold hard floor, naked as the day he was born. Fuck, he did not even bitch about the dogfood sandwiches. This man would make an excellent soldier, he had the potential to become Negan’s right hand man. He wondered what it would take for the man to break. Maybe he should show him the room that could be his. A nice room, with a television, electricity, hot showers, a fridge filled with beer, a nice warm soft bed. Maybe he could tempt Daryl to his side by giving him Dwight to kill. Fuck, the hunter hated Dwight even more than he hated Negan, but then again he never betrayed the hunter. Unlike Dwighty boy and Sherry. 

That is why he would never trust Dwight. The man had no morals, no code. Daryl helped Dwight, Sherry and Tina escape his patrol. They had been free and clear, they could have skipped down to Mexico or something. But instead they stole his crossbow and his bike, leaving their savior stranded way up in shit creek without a paddle. Not only that, Dwight made it his mission to hurt Daryl. He shot the hunter’s friend with Daryl’s own fucking crossbow. Dwight does not know it yet, but he will be punished for the woman’s death. Negan may enjoy bashing heads to a pulp with Lucille, but never women and never children. Fuck, he even felt guilty when he had to put a female walker down.

After Dwight locked the hunter back in his cold dank cell, Negan stopped the scar faced man. 

“How long Dwight? You promised me the hunter. How long must I wait?”

Dwight started the upbeat song again, within seconds they could hear and see the pounding on the door. Seems like Daryl was kicking, or punching, fuck maybe even kicking and punching the shit out of the door.

Dwight grinned in Negan’s direction. 

“Soon. Listen to him. He is going batshit crazy in there.”

Negan walked away whistling. Fuck, he hated that song. It was time for the test. He’ll let Dwight unlock the cell door. Maybe Daryl would stay, but if he tried to run… well, then he’ll know Dwight is wrong and the hunter is not even close to kneeling.

 

Daryl woke to blessed silence. But something woke him. It was not when the fucking song stopped. It was something else, something that alerted him. That is why he had been able to sleep through anything, but still hear the silent hoof of a deer on the ground and later the soft scrape of a walker’s feet. 

Daryl rose silently and crept towards the door. The handle turned beneath his hand, before silently opening. The snick of the door being unlocked. Daryl slipped from one corridor to the other, hoping to find an exit, hoping to make his escape. At last he saw an old faded “Exit” sign on the wall and he knew he was close. He had to get back to Alexandria and beg Maggie’s forgiveness. He would not be surprised if she killed him on the spot, or at least send him packing. It was his fault Glenn died. But he did not think. As always he did not think his actions through. He worked so hard these past few years, trying to control his temper and his impulses. He’s been getting good at it too, his only slip had been right after Beth. Dawn deserved more punishment than a quick bullet through the head.

The soft footfall alerted Daryl to the presence of another person in the corridor. Sounds like a woman or a child. In vain Daryl hopes the person turns away, that they do not cross paths, because he will not kill a woman or a child. Before he could turn away and try and find another exit, the woman turns around the corner.

Sherry’s eyes widened. She knew what happened. Negan would never have forgotten to lock the cell door and neither would Dwight or Fat Joey. Fat Joey had always been a very ardent and vocal supporter of Negan. That is why the fat fuck lives in a lap of luxury, being bestowed the honour of being a lieutenant without even setting foot outside the compound. Dwight had not always been a Yes Man, but ever since she forced him to return to Negan? Ever since she married Negan to save his life? Negan burned half of Dwight’s face away and the moment Dwight woke up in the infirmary, he’s been Negan’s good little lap dog. He would never do anything to jeopardize his position with Negan. Not again.

“Oh fuck Daryl, you have to go back. They will find it and it will be worse.”

She could see the man did not trust her. Not that she could blame him. He tried to help them escape. He even offered them a place at Alexandria if they wanted it. But instead they betrayed him, robbed him blind and left him stranded in the middle of the woods with nothing but the clothes on his back.

“Back when we first met. You know, after…”

“After what? After I tried to help you and you robbed me?”

“I’m sorry. I am so sorry. You said we would be sorry. But I did not believe you. We came back and we crawled in front of Negan. Negan wanted to kill Dwight, but I said I would marry him if he let Dwight live. So Negan did, but you saw. You saw what Negan did to Dwight’s face. You said we would be sorry, and you will never know how sorry I am. But you have to go back Daryl. There are worse things he could do to you.”

Daryl scoffed at the woman. If she thinks he is going to trust her or believe anything she says, then she must be even more stupid than he thought. He could see the door. Freedom was so close. He knows that once he gets to the woods, he was free. He could get away.

Daryl stepped right into the trap. Huh, seems like Sherry was right. It had been a little test by Negan, one which he failed spectacularly. The sun hurt his eyes, but it felt good standing in the sun. Even if he was surrounded by a maniac and his followers.

“What the fuck am I going to do with you Daryl? I like you, I really like and respect you. There is always a place for someone like yourself in my little organization. With me, you will enjoy the respect that you deserve. Something that useless little prick is unable or unwilling to do.”

Negan circled Daryl, the man did not even blink or seem worried. Maybe he is too stupid to be worried, but these days? Stupid men don’t survive too long on their own. And from what he understood, this man had been the one to feed all those nice folk up at Alexandria. Rick the prick does not respect the man, he uses Daryl. Daryl is nothing more than a hammer in the claws of Rick Grimes. 

Something needs to be killed? Send Daryl in. Group’s starving? Let Daryl go hunt. Need somebody to be used as fucking walker bait or a distraction? Use Daryl. In that prick’s eyes, the hunter was expendable. Heaven forbid somebody else has to ride on a fucking motorbike in front of a horde of walkers, leading those dead fuckers away.

He knew more about their town and the people in them than Rick would ever realize. He never took over a place, without knowing exactly who all the players are. He knew about Diana and her wish for a perfect little sanctuary. Living a pampered life, filled with rainbows and unicorns. He knew the exact number of people her fucking stupid son got killed. By the time he rounded them up, he knew exactly who was going to meet Lucille up close and personal.

He may have played his little game of picking the sacrificial lamb. But he knew, you better fucking believe it, he knew. Abraham had always been his choice. Speaking of hammers, that man there, had been a number one tool from the start. But it had been the redhead who was favored by the prick. He had enough mindless muscle in his group. He sure as fucking shit did not need any more.

The final nail in Abraham’s coffin had been not that he was a mindless drone, following any and all orders Rick Grimes handed him, no it had been the way he broke up with Rosita and hooked up with Sasha. Even if the world went to shit, there was somethings you did and somethings you just did not do. Making a woman feel like shit, telling her you had only been with her because you believed she was the last female on earth? That was a big fucking no.

He was sorry about the Korean kid. Glenn had been resourceful, but still so soft. The only person he lived for had been his wife. And from what Negan understood Maggie Rhee had been pregnant and in serious distress. Glenn would not have survived the death of Maggie.

He really wanted to bash Spencer’s head in, but the little pussy barely left Alexandria these days. Without his mother’s protection, he was basically reduced to a non-entity. And why the fuck not? He was a spoiled little rich boy, who refused to get with the program and adapt. He was still prancing around in designer clothes, stealing food and making damn sure his fucking soft gut had been fed. 

Negan circled Daryl one last time. He gripped Lucille just a bit tighter in his hands. Maybe he should take a swing at Daryl. He wondered if that would make the man blink.

“Well, look at that! You must have ice water flowing in your fucking veins. Did you see that shit? The man did not even blink.”

Negan was seriously impressed with his hostage. Everybody else cowered and sweated and flinched. Not this man. He was fearless. He was a fucking machine. But then again, they all saw the scars on Daryl’s back. Here was a man that was never going to be scared of Negan, he would never bend the knee in fear. He will either take a knee because he wants to or he won’t. There was no half-way with this man. It takes a lot before Negan respects somebody. But he respects Daryl Dixon, fuck he may not like the man a lot at the moment, but he sure as shit respects the man. Back in the clearing, in the line-up, the hunter showed absolutely no emotion. Not even when Negan shoved Lucille right into his face. He only snapped and lashed out the moment Negan taunted Rosita with the bloody bat. So unlike Rick the fucking prick, who went from being all cocky and threatening to a sniveling little pussy.

“I like you Daryl. I need somebody just like you in my ranks. But just because I like you does not mean I’m going to let your little attempt at escape stand. So before Dwight returns you to your room, you will be taught a lesson. And it is a lesson you will learn. You will learn to obey me. You will learn to bend the knee when I come into a room. You will belong to me.”

Negan watched from the shade as his men beat the holy shit out of the hunter, not that Dixon took it. The man gave as good as he got and fought back right to the very end. It was only when Dwight kicked the man in the nuts that the tide turned. 

 

Time passed slowly for Daryl. He woke up, naked and back in his dark little hole. There was not a place on his body that was not screaming in pain. His left eye was swollen shut and felt like a rotten peach. His mouth was sore and tender, sometime during the beating he damn near bit his own tongue off and chewed the insides of his cheeks to shit. His ribs were tender and it hurt breathing, those stupid fucks may just have broken a rib or two, they certainly bruised them to hell and back. The worst pain was still the throbbing in his groin. 

Once again Dwight opened the door and together with Fat Joey dragged Daryl through the compound. This time they were trying the silent treatment, hoping to break Daryl with their silence. Daryl wondered briefly where they were taking him, since it was not to the Doctor. Maybe Negan decided to burn half of his face off. Maybe Negan wanted to bash his head in. Not that Daryl cared either way. He was never going to kneel in front of Negan. If Negan wants to kill him, he’ll kill him. 

Daryl did not even blink. Nothing in the room impressed him. Negan was now just trying tactics his Pa cured him off a long time ago. Every now and again, Will would make promises to his youngest child. Promised him that they would move into town again. That Daryl would have a room and a real bed to sleep in again. Three square meals. He made one promise after the other, how sorry he had been, but he will be a better dad. The first few times Daryl believed his father, he so desperately craved to believe his father, but each time, just as the old man saw Daryl finally believed him, saw the hope shining in his son’s face, then Will would grab his old leather belt and whip the shit out of Daryl. 

“So Daryl, this could all be yours. A nice bed to sleep in, clothes to wear. Fuck I’ll even give your crossbow and angel wings back. Three square meals a day, hot showers. The works. All I ask is one simple thing. See, when I ask Dwight here, who he is…”

Dwight answered, with barely a crack in his voice, “Negan.”

Pointing to Fat Joey, who answered quicker and with pride shining through, “Negan”

Negan pointed to Simon, “Negan.”

“Get the picture Daryl. So if I ask you who you are?”

Daryl swallowed hard. It was much more difficult than he would have believed. It was going to be hard answering the man. He would like to have a shower, enjoy three meals that do not consist of dogfood, fuck see a little sunshine. But the weight of his guilt is heavier. The voice of Daryl’s guilty conscience was not his mother, whom he failed to save as a child. Nor the voice of his brother, and you better believe it was his fault that Merle died as well, he had been the one to force Merle back to the prison. No, the voice reminding Daryl of every last one of his failures was that of his father. In the back of his mind he could hear Will Dixon screaming at his son, “You Negan’s bitch now, boy? Don’t you dare forget it is all your fault! You are the one that tried to help Dwight and his wife. You are the one who blew a shitload of Negan’s men to pieces with that rocket launcher. And you better mind your Pa now, but you know it is your fault Denise died. It is your fault Abraham died and is for damn sure your fault that Glenn died. So go ahead, be a pussy. Get down on your knees and suck Negan’s cock, like the good little bitch you are.”

Daryl looked Negan straight in the eye. If the man kills him, he kills him. But he is not going to give Negan or his fucking father the satisfaction.

“Daryl.”

Dwight dragged the injured hunter back to the cold wet cell. The man was a fool. Negan obviously liked him, since he tolerated so much shit. If it had been anybody else, Negan would have bashed his head in along with the Korean kid’s head. But Negan dragged Daryl’s useless ass back to the Sanctuary, he gave him food and water, fuck he even allowed the doctor to treat Daryl’s wounds. All the stupid fucking redneck hick had to say was that his name was Negan.

Dwight used more force than necessary to propel Daryl back into his dank little cell.

“Are you so fucking stupid man? Just get down on your knees and say you are Negan. It’s not that difficult. You remember Tina? Sherry’s sister? Tina was diabetic. Her insulin was too expensive, so Negan said he will marry Tina. It would have meant that Tina would have received her insulin and follow the proper diet. But the price seemed too high. So we ran. After we left you in the woods, we came crawling back to Negan. Negan wanted to bash my head in, but Sherry said she will marry him, if he spares my life. So Negan married Sherry and burned the left side of my face off. But I kneeled again. I worked hard to earn Negan’s trust. Now I am one of his trusted lieutenants. That could be you. A nice warm bed, warm showers, everything you ever wanted and all you have to do is kneel.”

Daryl sighed. “I get it man. I get why you kneeled. You did it because you have somebody. That’s why I can’t kneel…”

“You are a fucking asshole Daryl. Remember that Korean kid? His death is on you! It is your fault he died.”

With a snarl Dwight threw a picture into the cell before slamming the door shut. It was obvious “Easy Street” was not breaking the redneck. That was one tough son of a bitch. But Daryl gave him the key. The key in breaking Daryl was his guilty conscience. Dwight loaded Roy Orbison’s “Crying”. Maybe this song, along with a picture of the Korean kid’s broken skull will push the hunter over the edge. He stood waiting by the door, listening. “Crying” was on its third repeat, that’s when he heard it. The broken sobs coming from the inside.

Daryl woke in blessed silence. The picture of Glenn, head bashed into a bloody pulp, was still clasped in his left hand. A puddle of vomit close to his head. He must have cried until he vomited and passed out. But at least the music stopped.

Dwight opened the cell door, throwing the same dirty sweatpants and shirt at Daryl. It still smelled of piss, shit and vomit. Without a sound, Daryl got dressed. He refused to complain about the smelly clothes. He refused to give the scarred man and his master the satisfaction of knowing the dirty smelly clothes bothered him. He refused to let them see that his whole body was hurting. 

Merle’s gruff voice ghosted through his mind, “That’s right little brother. Never let those fucks see you bleed.”


	3. Chapter 3

Daryl was washing the floors, when the heard the trucks arrive. Maybe they went to Alexandria this time. He wondered if anybody asked after him. He wondered whether anybody even cared about him? He would not blame them if they did not want anything to do with him. He was the reason Glenn got murdered. But he promised himself to stay alive long enough to face Maggie. His life was hers to do as she pleases. If she banishes him, she banishes him. If she decides to kill him, she kills him. 

He heard the voices long before they even saw him. Negan and his right hand man, Simon.

“Jesus, did you see the look on Rick the Prick’s face when we removed half of their shit? Their set-up is real sweet, but fuck are those people stupid and lazy? Half the fucking town pretending the world outside their walls do not exist. And who the fuck gives the fat chick the key to the pantry? It’s like asking a pack of wolves to protect the sheep.”

Simon laughed, before he lowered his voice, but Daryl could still hear him. 

“Uhm, Negan, not to rain on your parade or anything, but just how useful is Daryl gonna be?”

“Don’t you worry about that Simon. I’m sure it was just shock. Still recovering from Big Reg and the Korean Kid getting to meet Lucille. And then I did show up a whole week before I said I would. Besides I have plans for Daryl. Sooner or later he’ll get with the program. He will make a valuable addition to our group here.”

Daryl stood frozen for a moment. Wondering about the conversation between Negan and Simon. Did it mean that they never even asked after Daryl? Did it mean that Rick and Maggie said he was no longer welcome and that Negan could keep him and do with him whatever they wanted? Was Maggie even still alive? She looked pretty bad out there and Daryl thought she was dying.

Time passed slowly for Daryl. Sometimes Dwight and Fat Joey would shove a mop and bucket in his hands and he was required to wash the floors. Sometimes they took him outside and he had to feed the walkers chained around the perimeter of the Sanctuary. 

When Fat Joey explained the points system, Daryl had not been worried at first. His forced labor would certainly be enough to buy him two or three meals a day? It was when he saw how much he owed Negan already, that Daryl started to panic. He heard the whispered horror stories of people unable to earn their keep. Who spent more points than they earned. On top of everything else, Negan was also a loan shark, and sooner or later, loan sharks came to collect. He cut down on his breakfast, only taking a bottle of water. Still he did not seem to make a dent in what he owed. At least his ‘room’ came cheap, since he was still in the cell.

Then Daryl cut down on lunch as well and only took a second bottle of water. He cut down on his showers, he only showered every second day. As a last desperate measure, Daryl cut his dinners in half and showered only once a week, but still he owed the bastard more than he had been able to earn.

It was the whistling that woke Daryl up. Negan was on his way and Daryl had a bad feeling. He was tired and hungry. The past seven weeks he ate only once a day and the meal consisted of one slice of bread and two teaspoons of stew, along with his bottle of water. His shoulder still ached and bothered him.

Simon and Dwight took turns to shove Daryl to the outside. Except for the whistling, Negan was quiet. In all his time in captivity, Daryl never knew the man to be quiet. He was always talking, always loud. Daryl tried to remember how much he owed the man. He knew he had been behaving himself, not trying to escape, well not actively. He will get his chance to escape, but he will sure as shit not trust the unlocked cell door. 

A group of Negan’s most trusted and cruelest cronies stood on the outside, quietly chatting. From the outside it looked like a bunch of friends at somebody’s funeral. Chatting, catching up, but softly, not wanting to cause a disturbance and disrespect the deceased and his family. Daryl swallowed, Negan did not plan anything nice for him. He did not gather these bastards to try and convince him to bend the knee. Nope, Daryl was in for a world of hurt.

The group of men closed ranks around Daryl and Negan. Negan gave his prisoner a rather feral smile. A smile that promised this was going to hurt. A smile that promised he would end the day with quite a number of new scars on his body. It was the same smile his Pa would give him, almost serene, just before the beating began.

“Now Daryl. I’m sure you’re wondering what you are doing outside on such a fine day? I know you know that it is not your turn to feed the, what do you guys call them?”

Simon once again provide, “Walkers”

“Oh yes, walkers on the fence there. You, my stubborn little hunter, is out here, because we have a little score to settle. Now, I don’t want to scar your pretty little face like I did with Dwighty-boy here. Well, firstly because you’ve done nothing to warrant that kind of punishment and secondly I kind of like your face just the way it is. Now you may wonder why the fuck are you here? And not inside? Because you will take a few days to recover and I can’t have the fucking floors of my home covered in fucking redneck blood until you are well enough to mop that shit up. And I because I suspect your little friends back in Alexandria, namely Rick the fucking prick and his merry fucking band of misfits are spying on me right now. Despite Rick telling me that he does not care a flying fuck about one Daryl Dixon. Can you believe his gratitude? Feeding those lying bastards, keeping them safe, and what does he do? He tells me I could do whatever the fuck I want with you. Cut you loose, bash your head in, feed you bit by bit to the walkers, use you as a fuck-toy, Some fucking friend, huh?”

Daryl tried to hide the sudden pain. His pa had been right all along. Fuck, Merle had been right. They would only use him, until he was not needed, then they would scrape him from the heels of their boots as if he was shit. He knew he was shit. He knew he was nothing. A nobody. But he hoped, through it all, after everything he’s done for the group, they would want him to stay. He chose them over his own brother. He took several beatings to try and protect the group. He never lost faith in them, he never lost faith in Rick. Not even when Rick lost his mind after Lori died. And one little mistake, one moment in time when he was hurting, out of his mind and lost his temper…and that was it?

Negan tried to ignore the pained look on the hunter’s face. He wasn’t always been a fucking bastard, maybe a bastard, but never a fucking bastard. He wasn’t blind to his own faults. His Lucille was the sweetest woman and she consented to become his. And what did he do? He cheated on her, drank too much and gambled too much. When he woke up one morning and decided to turn his life around and become the husband Lucille deserved, it had been too late. Lucille died of cancer two months later and three months after her, the world died.

He tried to be the kind of man Lucille would be proud of. He protected and saved as many as he could. He always had one rule. No rape. No means fucking hell no. Rape was the only crime he bashed people’s heads in and before too long, those in his group learned his no rape rule and they followed it to the letter.

Slowly but surely the power went to his head. He became more cruel and distant as the days bled into months. Until he no longer recognized himself. This was not what he wanted to be. This was not what he set out to do. But now he was trapped. Trapped behind the hype of his name and reputation.

He felt compassion for Daryl Dixon. The man was headstrong, stubborn and proud. He saw the scars on the man’s body. Fuck, they all did. He knew Daryl would never bend the knee. He would never be Negan’s follower. He followed Grimes, because he believed in the man. He believed in the promises Grimes made. Rick Grimes was exactly like Negan, no scratch that, he was worse than Negan. Because Negan never said one thing and did another.

He never called a man his brother and fed him to the wolves when the friendship became inconvenient. If he planned on beating the shit out of somebody, he told them he was going to do it. He never was one for stabbing people in the back, whilst still comforting them. He never slipped into somebody’s home and slaughtered them while they were sleeping. What you see is what you get with Negan. 

It pained him to have to punish Daryl, but the rules were the rules. Daryl owed too much. The man has been going wild with his points. He did not begrudge the man the three meals a day, nor the ten bottles of water. But the snacks? Shit like chocolate, candy and cold drinks did not come cheap. Negan also believed Grimes had spies out in the woods. Daryl’s beating would serve as a warning. Maybe Grimes had been truthful when he told him he did not want anything to do with Daryl Dixon, but maybe Grimes had been lying. Hoping Negan would tire of Daryl and cut him loose. Because, lets face it folks, Daryl Dixon was absolutely fucking fearless. 

“Now Daryl. I am a man of my word. Rules are now even more important than ever. You know my stance on the no rape rule, and as of yet I have not heard one complaint from any of the ladies that you have been bugging them. But another important rule is, no freeloading. You work to earn your keep. I do not know what Rick the prick’s rules had been about wasting and abusing valuable recourses, but at the Sanctuary it is a big fucking no-no son. Your pals at Alexandria has also been a little lax in providing for me, and did I not promise that fucktard Rick Grimes that I will take payment out of your sorry ass if he does not comply?”

Simon nodded in agreement. Yes, Negan did warn Grimes. Negan was very clear that non-compliance meant Dixon was to be punished.

“Now Daryl, this is going to hurt. It is going to hurt like a motherfucker. But rest assured, I have instructed my boys here not to remove any body parts, and not to kill you. But they are going to beat the ever loving fucking shit out of your scrawny redneck ass. Hopefully this will teach you not to waste valuable resources and bring Rick the prick back to heel.”

Negan left the circle and made himself comfortable on the steps. His group of men circled Daryl. Dwight landed the first punch and would you fucking know it, the plucky redneck punched Dwight right back. Ten minutes into the beating the tide turned. Daryl fell to the ground and was unable to get back up. His boys learned not to get too close to the redneck, because the one closest to him would receive a hard punch in the face. But this time, Daryl could not get up. Like a pack of hyenas smelling blood, the group closed in on Daryl and started kicking him. Negan quickly put a stop to that, it was very easy to kick a man to death and he did not want to kill Dixon. He wanted the redneck to become part of his group.


	4. Chapter 4

For the first time since Daryl was four years old, he wanted to cry. He wanted to cry because every part of his body hurt, he wanted to cry because he was hungry and thirsty, he wanted to cry because the damn floor was cold, hard and uncomfortable. In short, Daryl felt like crying for every shitty thing that has ever happened to him since the moment his Pa knocked his Ma up and he popped out nine months later.

Daryl tried to remember how much his daily meagre ration of food cost. How much was his weekly five minute shower. He should have made a dent in what he owed Negan. He knew for a fact he did not pay for his so-called room, since he still slept in the dank and dark cell. He did not buy a pillow or even a blanket, because he saw how much it would cost him and because he knew it would give Negan immense satisfaction knowing that Daryl wanted creature comforts just as the next person.

Things just did not add up. Somebody was buying stuff and placing it on Daryl’s name. Daryl started a mental list. He knew people believed him to be ignorant. Just because he talked, walked and looked different than everybody else. Just because he grew up dirt poor on the wrong side of the wrong side of the tracks. The list of suspects were not that long, even in a place as big as the Sanctuary. The guilty party would be one of Negan’s so-called lieutenants, his confidants, his soldiers. The workers would never be able to pull this scheme off, since they were to afraid and downtrodden to even try.

“The only five people I regularly come into close contact with is: Negan, Simon, Dwight, Sherry and Fat Joey. 

Negan. The man owned the place and was one of only a handful of people who did not need to use the points system. He was never even seen down in the shopping district to purchase goods. Whenever supplies came in, Negan had first choice of the haul. He never took his meals in the cafeteria. There was absolutely no reason for Negan to go through this elaborate plot just so he could beat the shit out of one little redneck by the name of Daryl Dixon. So no, he was not the one who used my name to purchase shit.

Sherry. As one of Negan’s wives she can be eliminated almost immediately. Just like Negan, they did not need to use the points system. Maybe that had been why they were all so eager to become the man’s wife. They lived in the lap of luxury. Warm baths, beds and clothing. As much food and other little treats they could want. Dressed in expensive clothing, smelling of expensive perfume. Cannot really fault their reasoning, they wanted to be protected. They wanted to be safe. They did not want to go out into the world and risk their lives. There was nothing wrong with it, but it is foolish as shit. The world had changed. To be able to really survive and thrive in this new world, you had to be able to protect yourself. You could not allow yourself to rely on others to protect you, all that did was make you a burden and a liability.

Simon. Right hand man of Negan. The man’s unbalanced and dangerous. His eyes are every bit as crazy as Walsh’s had been during the man’s final days. But Negan kept the man on a rather short and tight leash. I doubt Simon would fart if Negan did not give him permission to do so. It still did not eliminate the man completely, because I had been part of the group that attacked the outpost. Simon knew everybody at the bloody outpost, he had been friends with all of them. So yeah, he could be holding a grudge and hoping that if he used my points, Negan would not only kill me but go back to Alexandria and kill everybody there as well.

Fat Joey. He was just too timid and baby faced. I would bet my left nutsack, the man used to be bullied at school. Because of his weight, his baby face, his soft voice. Words like “tub of lard” and “faggot” may or may not have been used to describe the man. So yeah, when the world ended and Fat Joey stayed alive against all odds, it was not inconceivable the man would fall in with the biggest and meanest dog in the junkyard. He would do anything he must to survive. Maybe Fat Joey had been the one the one using my points, but I don’t believe he would have. Fat Joey followed Negan’s orders to the letter. He would not do anything that might compromise his own position. So even if he wanted to use my points to make his own life a little more comfortable, the man just would not dare. Because of Negan finds out the truth, Joey would be the one suffering.

Dwight. Ungrateful, spiteful, scar faced little motherfucker. I tried my utter fucking best to save his sorry ass, Sherry and Tina back in the woods. Instead they chose to return to Negan and betray me. They also stole my shit in the process of running back to Negan. The fucker also murdered Denise using my own fucking crossbow. I know why he chose to crawl back to Negan. He wanted to protect Sherry, but still the man stole my shit and killed Denise. For some reason the man really hates me and blames me for everything which had gone wrong in his life. So could he be the one using my name and points? 

So it is either Simon or Dwight. One of those two are responsible for the beating I received. One of those two really want Negan to bash my head in. Simon, at least, do have a valid reason to hate me.”

 

It took a week before Daryl somewhat resembled a human being again, he still felt like he went through the cosmic meat grinder, but at least he was able to open both his eyes and his mouth no longer felt like a baboon’s ass. Negan did not even allow him to heal up a bit, the very next day, he had Daryl feed the walkers on the fence. A task taxing to those in good condition, near impossible for somebody who’s been beaten to a bloody pulp. But Daryl survived, he refused to give Negan and his merry little band of fuckers any reason to enjoy themselves at his expense.

That had always been his weakness. His pride. Funny thing for a Dixon to have, but his pride, honour and his brains had been all Daryl ever had. He was the only Dixon in a long time not to have had a criminal record. Hell, even his Ma had a record. She tried prostitution once, but got picked up. He later heard his Pa beat the shit out of his Ma for being such a stupid bitch and whenever money got tight around the Dixon household and there was no cash for booze, drugs and smokes, his Pa would chase his sons into the woods and have a party at home. It was only later that Daryl realized his Pa whored his Ma out so that they could have money. He never knew who he hated most, his Pa for being the utter fucking abusive bastard he had been or his Ma for being so weak. Sometimes he wonders about the house fire. Was it really nothing more than a drunken accident or did his Ma decide to commit suicide? The one day that his Pa had been at work, Merle still in juvie and he being allowed to play in the park?

Negan kept a close eye on the hunter. There was something off about the man’s response. He had been seriously surprised to hear about the points tally. As if he did not know what the fuck Negan had been talking about. Besides, the man was damn near skin and bones. One would think he would have started to fatten up a bit with all the treats he bought himself. Maybe it is time for Doc Carson to take a good look at their hostage. Give him a thorough physical. 

Negan was worried, but he would never let his people realize he was worried and troubled. A worried leader today was a walker on the fence tomorrow. The world turned into a dog eat dog world. He whistled on his way to the Doc’s office. Smiling at his kneeling subjects as he went, greeting a few by name, grinning at the puffed up pride as Negan acknowledged them by name. On his way he found Simon and Fat Joey, ordering the two to bring Dixon to the Doc’s office.

His men was proficient and by the time he reached the Doc’s office, Simon at Dixon by the scruff of his neck, escorting the man to Doc Carson, as requested.

“Thank you Simon. You may leave.”

“You sure Negan? ‘Cause this fucker…”

“Did I fucking stutter?”

Simon shook his head, mumbled an apology and sounded a very hasty retreat from the room. There was no reason anybody but Negan and the Doc should be in the room with Dixon. Negan kind of understood the hunter by now. He was hard and rough. He did not take shit from anybody and that included Negan. But fuck, the man was loyal to a fault, he would cut of his own left testicle if those who enjoyed his allegiance only asked it of him. He had the balls to sit on a bike, leading a horde of walkers away from their home. With nothing more than his crossbow, a pistol and his good old Southern charm to protect him. Daryl Dixon was fucking fearless, just the kind of man who would survive their new reality without even breaking a sweat. 

The days of lawyers, stockbrokers and fat corrupt politicians have ended. They may have ruled the roost, but the second the dead started getting up and spreading their infection, was the day their rule came to a very abrupt halt. Those who thrived in the new world, was the men and women who knew first hand that life was anything but rainbows and unicorns. Those who knew how to survive with nothing more than a butter knife and a piece of gum.

Fuck, one of his workers used to be president of the United States. In the old world he may have been a smooth talker, well until a certain little dress of one of his mistresses saw the light of day, but he had been useless in the new world. He could not hunt, he could not track, he could not scavenge. Now he spent his days down in the sorting room, cataloging women’s clothing. Negan could not trust the man near the food, medicine or men’s clothing. Fuck he did not even trust the man near the women’s clothing, but sorting women’s clothing had been the lowest risk job he could assign to the old fart. Sure as shit did not stop the old buzzard’s wandering eye at every young thing that set foot in the Sanctuary, trying to coerce them into his bed, still trying his old fame as President of the United States.

“Doc, I want you to give our guest here a full checkup. I want to know if there is so much as a fart in his body which does not belong there. So Dixon, strip down and let the Doc get on with it.”

Negan could see the resentment and hatred in Daryl’s eyes. His eyes cold and hard as he stripped down. Which had not been much, the man had no shoes, no socks and certainly no underwear. Interesting, some of the shit Daryl bought had been shoes, underwear and socks. So why not wear them? They weren’t in his cell, hell there was not even a pillow or a blanket in the room, stuff he also apparently bought. Negan let his eyes travel over the abused body of Daryl Dixon, he was covered in bruises, scabs and scars, some seemingly quite old and some fresh. He was also rail thin, Negan has seen walkers in better physical condition as Daryl Dixon. What the fuck? This was a man who supposedly ate three square meals a day, with a variety of snacks in between?

An hour later Doc Carson had concluded his examination. Negan and Carson excused themselves to a corner, talking in low whispered voices.

“I don’t know what you expected to find Negan. Mr Dixon is severely underweight and malnourished. He seems to be anemic. He has a low grade fever. On top of that he is also borderline dehydrated. What he needs is antibiotics and painkillers to fight the fever and infection from his wounds. He needs a warm bath to clean himself and quite a few decent meals.”

“Doc, according to his card, he is very much in debt. According to his points tally he has been buying three large meals a day with a number of snacks in between. What you are telling me and what I am clearly seeing is a man slowly starving to death.”

“You’re a smart man Negan. Somebody has been using Daryl’s name to purchase all those extras. Call in old Mrs McManus. She keeps an eye on the floor and always knows who bought what. She also won’t lie and try and protect somebody. So if Daryl had been the one buying the stuff she would tell you and if it had been somebody else, she would still tell you. The others may be too afraid to tell the truth.  
Now I suggest we place Daryl on an IV, replace some of the fluids and nutrients he has lost, as well as an antibiotic. If needs be, I’ll pay for it myself, but I’m telling you now, Daryl won’t live another month if he keeps going like he has been.”

Negan nodded his consent. He was a bastard, he never claimed to be anything but. He was a hard taskmaster, expecting absolute obedience from his workforce. But he was not blind and he was not stupid. Time to go and have a chat with Mrs McManus.

The old woman certainly was a character. She was like he always dreamed his grandmother should be, grey hair caught in a bun, wrinkles, soft and friendly. So unlike his own two grandmothers, who could not and would not accept that they were growing older. They had face lifts, tummy tucks, boob jobs. All Botox and silicone. Too afraid to smile. No soft hugs. No Grandma cookies and pies. No wonder he was so fucked up. He never knew better. 

Both his parents grew up in stiff impersonal homes. It seemed more like museums than a home. Nothing was allowed to be touched or moved. No playing in the house. No children in the formal parlor. Meals were served in a cold dining room with a ridiculously long dining room table. Mother on one end, Father on the other. The child stuck in the middle. There was no comfortable dinner conversation. The only sounds that could be heard was the soft clinking of their dinnerware. 

Negan dreaded visits to both sets of his grandparents’ home. He was not allowed to call them anything but Grandfather or Sir and Grandmother or Ma’am. They did not hug, they did not kiss. Mealtimes were stiff and uncomfortable. He had to get dressed in smart casual clothing for breakfast and lunch and dinner time meant formal wear. His parents never knew any other life and even though they were not as stiff as his grandparents, they were still very impersonal and distant. That is why he rebelled. He refused to study medicine and follow his father and paternal grandfather’s footsteps as plastic surgeons to the rich and famous. He refused to study law and follow his maternal grandfather’s footsteps. He joined the Navy, got a tattoo and became everything his parents hated about the working class. He had thought he escaped the legacy of his family, but he never really did. 

He met Lucille and fell blindly in love with her. It did not stop him to cheat on her, but then again, it was what he learned about marriage. Neither his grandparents nor his parents made a secret about their own affairs. It was of course discreet, it would not do if their fellow country club members could start gossiping about them, but his mother knew of his father and his nurses and secretaries, just as his father knew about the pool boy, the tennis instructor, the golf pro and the math tutor. It had been the same in their own family homes. Fidelity in marriage had always been more of a suggestion than an actual vow.

By the time he had realized what he was doing to Lucille, the love of his life, and decided to be the man she deserves, it had been too late. She died of cancer and the world ended a little bit sooner for Negan than the rest of humanity.

He did not love the women he called his wives these days. He treated them with respect and always asked permission, he protected them and made sure they lived in comfort, but they meant nothing to him. His fucking bat meant more to him than his ‘wives’. Not that they even cared about him. Make no mistake any of his lovely wives would slip a blade between his ribs if they thought for a second they could get away with it, but at the moment they enjoyed the comfort of being one of Negan’s concubines. They did not need to work, the points system meant nothing to them. They pranced about in designer dresses and diamonds, smelling of very expensive perfume. They had everything his Lucille never had, but still Negan felt nothing for them. They could stand there in their clothing by Versace, shoes by Jimmy Choo, covered in diamonds and gold, smelling of Baccarat and Lucille could be on the other side, dressed in her denim and t-shirt, no fancy branded clothing or shoes, no diamonds and expensive perfume and Negan would still say, without hesitation that Lucille is the most beautiful woman in the world and the love of his very existence.

“Thank you for coming to see me Mrs McManus.”

The old woman good naturedly slapped him on the knee, “Don’t worry about it laddie. Gives these old bones of mine some exercise, besides, it is not every day Negan asks one of us workers to his office. So how can I help you?”

Normally Negan would have chopped the person’s hand of if they dared so much as touch him, but he liked the old woman. Part of it was her personality, but he suspected part was that she just did not have anything left to loose. She had nobody he could threaten with, her husband died years before and all of her children and grandchildren died because of the virus and the walkers.

“I understand nothing happens on the floor that you don’t know about. Care to share?”

The old woman grinned. She had waited for this very moment. She knew all the dirty little secrets Negan’s lieutenants had been hiding. Nobody ever suspected that kindly old Mrs McManus was busy taking notes.

“Negan, you are a good boy. A little rough around the edges, running around with all them women, cussing and killing. But you are still a good boy. So much like my Norman. He was kind of a happy accident. My youngest daughter was already twenty two when he was born. Did not even think I could get pregnant again. Caused a bit of a scandal in the family and my book club when I had to announce to the ladies I was expecting again. A few wanted me to have an abortion, saying he would be retarded and that I could die. I refused. If he was a special child, then he was. But he was mine, and I vowed to love him and care for him no matter what. That child could have been born with four arms, no legs and three heads and I still would have loved him and never regret a second of it.  
To this day I don’t know where I went wrong with my son. One day he was a normal happy little child and the next it was this rebellious little monster. Cussing and smoking. Running around with four or five girls he all called his girlfriends. It took me years, but I set my Norman straight. Gave him quite a few spankings too. Cussed up a storm when I hauled his nineteen year old butt over my knee and spanked his butt. I never told you about my Norman. He died a hero he did. We were in New York when this all started. We found this bus filled with women and children, their driver had fled. Leaving them right there to be eaten alive. The bus would not start and a bunch of those dead things were upon us. Norman got out of the bus and fixed it. Those things were ripping bits of his legs, but still Norman fixed the bus and let us escape. I still cry for my boy, but he was a hero. He died saving people he did not even know. He died thinking his Ma hated him because he was such a little hellion, but I’ve never been more proud of him than at that moment. Nobody’s ever going to naming a high school after him or built his statue. But it won’t change the fact that he is a hero.”

She took a sip of her tea, before pointing to Negan.

“Like I said, you remind me so much of my Norman. Do I need to drag you over my knee to straighten you out?”

Negan could only shake his head. He would rather face a hundred walkers wearing nothing more than his smile, than cross this woman. He really wished she had been his mother or grandmother. Then maybe he would never have treated his Lucille the way he had.

“No Ma’am. I’m sorry about your family, but I’m glad you are still here. At the moment I am interested at what is really going down on the floor. I have some of my lieutenants there, but I want to know your views.”

“Good boy, laddie. Nothing happens that I don’t notice. I know which of your lieutenants bribes some of the women with extra food for their children. Ten minutes in the backroom, your lieutenant comes out with this big goofy grin on his face, the lady looking ashamed, but sure as God made green apples, her kids get an extra portion of food that night. Now don’t go on blaming the women. They are mothers, mothers will do anything to make sure their child is fed and healthy.”

Negan was fuming. His one absolute rule and some men still bypass the rule. Forcing the women to have sex with them, just to make sure the kids get food was a big no-no. He never took points from children. They were, besides Negan and his wives, the only people in the Sanctuary that received their shit for free. They only started on the points system when they reached the age of eighteen. Mrs McManus could see this was news to Negan and sometime soon quite a few of his lieutenants were going to meet either the iron or Lucille.

“I really like that young man, Daryl. Also a rough diamond, but good manners. Always says please and thank you. Opens the doors for me, pulls out my chair. Carry anything heavy I may be struggling with. He is quiet, but I think he could also be dangerous. Not the kind of dangerous where I would have trouble sleeping. The kind of dangerous which makes me sleep better at night.”

This was what Negan wanted to hear about. He wanted the old woman’s views on Daryl Dixon and how many times the man really visits the floor and what he purchases. She would be the only one to tell Negan the absolute truth, even if it was not something he wanted to hear. Everybody else feared him and pissed themselves when Negan came close. Not this old woman, patting his knee, calling him a good boy and then threatening to spank his ass if he doesn’t straighten himself out.

“Do you know how little that boy eats? What he eats in a week is not enough to sustain a sparrow, much less a strapping young man. And with him doing all that hard work? I’ve seen the place you let the boy sleep in. No bed, no blanket not even a pillow. But I have seen one of your lieutenants buying stuff and putting it on Daryl’s name. The poor boy starves himself to death and that little beatnik steals from Daryl and I suppose he steals from you. So, what are you going to do about it?”

Negan’s temper was boiling. His rules had been absolute from the start. No raping, no stealing, no free loading. He allowed his soldiers a shitload more of leeway than the workers, because it was his soldiers who performed the dangerous work. And what do they do? Betray his trust. Force women to have sex with them. Steal somebody else’s points, points they did not even need as they were allowed to take whatever they wanted, as long as they signed for it.

“Who is it Mrs McManus?”

She smiled and gave him the name. It was time to change things here at the Sanctuary. Really turn the place into what its name suggests. She did not mind being a worker, she did not even mind the points system. It kind of reminded everybody of how the world used to be, but she did not care for Negan’s lieutenants and their cocky attitude, pretending it was all their handiwork that kept the place running.

******

“We need to discuss quite a few things Gregory. You sent us on a suicide mission, without the necessary information. Because of your shitty intel, I lost two very valuable members of my group. Abraham and Glenn died right in front of my eyes, because of you. Maggie here is pregnant with her and Glenn’s baby. She is going to have to raise their child alone because you did not give us all the information we needed.”

Gregory gulped, he did not believe for one second Grimes would go after the Saviors and attack the outpost. And he certainly did not believe the man would have been so stupid to leave witnesses behind.

“Look Rick, we have only ever dealt with that group of Saviors. How was I to know there was more of them? Besides you let a witness alive. And you can’t blame me for Margaret’s husband’s death. From what I understand it had been your man, Daryl is it, who caused his death.”

He gave a nervous grin. He was an administrator and politician. Not a soldier. He never even killed one of those dead things. It was his job to keep the lights on, in a manner of speaking.

“And I will deal with Daryl Dixon if and when we get him back. But right now, our issue is with you and Hilltop. You led Negan right to our doorstep. I think, because of your half-assed intel and thus your direct involvement in our current predicament, I’m taking half of what you have right now. Every two weeks I will visit Hilltop and collect half of what you managed to collect. Maggie will stay here to keep an eye on you and receive the proper medical treatment she deserves. You will vacate the room you are currently sleeping in and give it to Maggie. If I hear so much as a whisper that you are holding back on your supplies, I will destroy this place. If I hear any complaints that Maggie does not receive the medical treatment she needs or that she sleeps outside or even that she so much as sneezed, I will destroy you. Your doctor will give free medical treatment to my people and he will be available 24/7 if and when we need him. Do I make myself clear?”

Gregory has been in this business a long time. Even before the world went to hell and long before Negan showed up, Gregory knew when he had been dragged butt ass naked over a barrel and just wrong word will end with him being ass fucked into oblivion. He gave a very nervous nod, “Crystal.”

“Good, now leave and clean out your old room. I want fresh blankets and pillows on the bed. Maggie will not sleep in your dirty bed covered with your filthy linen.”

Gregory scuttled out of the room. The next time Simon comes around for a collection, he better inform the Savior about Rick Grimes and his demands.

Maggie stared at Rick. Remnants of his old Ricktatorship regime flashed behind his eyes. She believed he had left all those madness behind. They all forgave him back then. It had been right after the farm, he had to kill his best friend, his wife was pregnant with Shane’s child, he carried the knowledge regarding the truth of the virus on his own, then Lori died and Carl had to kill her. They all forgave Rick for his madness back then. They understood. Daryl had been the one carrying the group, feeding them, protecting them. He was the one who went out and made sure Judith had formula and everything else a baby might need. They all knew just how much Daryl did for their group and how much he sacrificed for them. She may be mistaken, but it seems as if Rick was blaming Daryl for Glenn’s death and was planning on kicking him out.

“Rick, about Daryl…”

“There is nothing more to say about Daryl Dixon, Maggie. The man is nothing but a liability. Just think about all the damage he and his kin has done to our group. Because of him we lost Sophia. Mr Big Shot Tracker. He claimed he lost the girl’s trail. He just did not want to look for her.  
Have you forgotten the Governor and his bloody brother Merle? Merle Dixon terrorized you and Glenn. Merle Dixon kidnapped Michone and had been more than ready to hand her and the rest of us over to the Governor.  
Daryl claimed he could not find the Governor. How do we know he did not protect the man, until the old fraud could come and attack us? It could be very well Daryl Dixon’s fault your Daddy died.  
He only had to protect Beth, but managed to lose her. Bullshit I say. He abandoned her and Beth had then been kidnapped by those idiots from Grady Memorial. Beth died because Daryl left her all alone. I can guarantee you it had never been his intention to look for Beth.  
He led those sick fucks, the Claimers, right to me and my son. Carl and Michone had nearly been raped by those bastards, men Daryl made friends with.  
Denise was killed by Daryl’s own crossbow because Daryl made friends with Dwight. He led the Saviors to our doorstep, because he cannot keep his fucking redneck mouth shut.  
Because of Daryl fucking Dixon, Glenn was murdered right in front of you. Negan bashed Glenn’s head in, because Daryl Dixon could not control his temper. I had to watch as Negan threatened Carl and Michone and all of you guys. I had to keep quiet, but no, Daryl Dixon had to jump up and punch the man.   
It should have been his head being bashed in. Not Abraham’s and certainly not Glenn’s.   
So, yeah, if and when Negan releases Daryl Dixon, I will beat that ignorant redneck hick to a pulp, before shoving him out of our lives. He is no longer welcome at Alexandria and he is most certainly no longer family.”

Maggie stared wide eyed at Rick Grimes. She could not believe the man in front of her. She was pregnant, she did not suffer from memory loss. Sophia’s death was a tragic accident, maybe an accident Rick himself could have prevented if he took better care of the girl, but an accident none the less. Daryl went out into those woods every damn day looking for Sophia. He nearly died in those woods and then Andrea went and shot the man.

Daryl was not his brother and in the end Merle tried to make things right. He gave his own life so that Daryl and the rest of the group at the prison could survive. It did not mean she automatically forgave Merle, but she had compassion for the man and she mourned Merle’s death, because she loves Daryl.

Besides it had been Rick who made the deal with the Governor to turn Michone over. Rick approached Merle to help him kidnap Michone and take her to the Governor. Daryl had been the one who went outside, once again, and try and rescue both Michone and Merle.

She did not blame Daryl for her Daddy’s death. The Governor murdered her father. Daryl blamed himself, believing he should have looked harder, but she never blamed him. He was the one who took care of Beth and she believes Daryl did everything in his power to try and find her sister.

Rick had been the one to murder one of the Claimers and Daryl just happened to be with them after he lost Beth. He had been on his way to slip away from them when he realized they had been tracking Rick, Michone and Carl. He was nearly beaten to death because he tried to sacrifice his life for them.

And if Rick thinks for one second she blames him for Denise’s death and Glenn’s death, he’s got another thing coming. Daryl never shared information with people he found on the road. Glenn and Abraham died because Rick made the deal with Gregory, refusing to scout the place out. Refusing to make sure how large a force the Saviors really was. He rushed in and left everybody else to deal with the mess, as always. It would be easy to blame Glenn’s death on Daryl, but Maggie believed Negan would have found an excuse to execute her husband, no matter what. Glenn had been a marked man the second he defied Negan.

So, she did not blame Daryl. He was an honourable man, always placing the needs of others before his own. He hunted for the group, dragged his kills back to the camp or these past few months, back to Alexandria. He cleaned the kills and butchered them. He made sure everybody else was fed and only if nobody else was still hungry, he would grab a small portion for himself.

And now these demands he was making from the people at Hilltop? How dare he condemn Negan and his so-called Saviors if he is doing the exact damn thing? Negan already takes half of whatever Hilltop manages to produce or scavenge.

Just how many people back at Alexandria had he already turned against Daryl? Carol would never abandon Daryl. She would have said neither would Tara, Rosita and Sasha, but those three women lost the people they cared about and may not be thinking straight. And if Rick spins his story just right, Rosita and Sasha will blame Daryl for Abraham’s death and Tara will blame him for Denise’s. Aaron and Eric would also not abandon Daryl, they recognized yet another social outcast and welcomed him into their home.

It saddened Maggie when she realized only a handful of people really cared about Daryl Dixon and two of those people died at the hands of the Saviors. She had to get word to Aaron, Eric, Tara and Carol. She had to plead Daryl’s case and beg them to help her to protect Daryl against Rick.

Maggie realized she should have known Rick would abandon Daryl this way. Whenever he could use Daryl and his skills, Daryl was his brother and family, but the moment he no longer needed the man, he shoved him aside like an old pair of boots. Up until the moment they reached Alexandria, Rick had been dependent on Daryl. Daryl was the one feeding the group, finding water, making sure his children were safe and protected. But the second he settled in, took over the reigns at Alexandria and declared himself leader? He no longer needed Daryl.

He had no qualms to use Daryl as walker bait when they needed to lead that herd of walkers away from Alexandria. Everybody else had been out of harm’s way or at least safe inside a car. Not Daryl. He had to ride on his bike in front of the walkers, armed with only his crossbow and a pistol. Maggie wondered if Rick had planned on Daryl not coming back that day? Why did he insist on a dry run? Did he plan something nasty for Daryl on the day they were supposed to let the walkers out? If not for the fact that the barriers fell and the herd escape, Daryl may very well have died. An oil slick in the road, some sort of trap which the man could not see, feeding him alive to the walkers.

She did not want to believe it. Rick Grimes could not be so cruel and calculated. But a voice at the back of her mind reminded her of the death of Shane. Shane Walsh may have been batshit insane, but it did not change the fact that Rick led him out and murdered him. It may or may not have been the self-defense Rick later claimed, they would never know, since nobody else had been there. The troublesome little voice, sounding suspiciously like her daddy, reminded her how he pursued Jessie and brutally beat her husband, before shooting him in cold blood.

Sadly Maggie had to acknowledge that Rick was in fact more than capable of plotting the murder of Daryl Dixon. He was unbalanced and he may very well be a psychopath. He always had an excuse ready for all his mistakes.

It was not my fault Merle got left behind, chained like some rabid animal on a rooftop in Atlanta. He was out of control, he was a danger to the group. Oh, she learned the whole sordid business, it may have been after the fact, but she heard every detail. Glenn told her and both Andrea and T-Dog confirmed it. Everybody knew they had to escape that building in a hurry, but Rick still kept Merle handcuffed Merle. They all knew the moment Rick and Glenn arrived with their escape vehicle the group would have to vacate the building in a hurry. There would never have been enough time to free Merle. Rick intended to leave Merle behind.

No, it is not my fault Sophia got lost in the woods, I told her to stay right there and if I did not come back to head back to the road. A scared twelve year old girl left alone in woods she has never been in before in her life, right after being chased down by walkers.

It is your fault that Shane died. I killed my best friend, my brother for you guys. Placing the blame on their shoulders. Rick wanted to take his supposed best friend out of the equation. In part because Lori convinced him that Shane was dangerous and in part because Shane slept with Lori and fathered a child with her.

The whole mess with the Governor was what happened when two very unbalanced, egotistical men flying high on a god complex crossed paths.

Rick made one stupid and dangerous mistake after the other and inevitably blamed those around him for his short comings. At the moment, Daryl was the most convenient scapegoat, especially since the man was not here to defend himself.

“Jesus?”

The long haired man stepped from the shadows.

“Yes Maggie?”

“Will you do me a favour? Can you try and reach Alexandria and find the following people for me: Aaron, Eric, Tara and Carol.”

Jesus nodded. He liked Daryl. Daryl Dixon was a man of few words, but he never said anything he did not mean and he meant everything he said.

“Don’t worry Maggie, I’ll find them and bring them very discreetly here.”

Maggie paced up and down the office. She did not trust Gregory as far as she could throw the man, but she was also not about to let Rick waltz in and take advantage of the people from Hilltop just because he held a grudge against Gregory.

She needed to make sure these people gets combat training. It was absurd that none of them could defend themselves. Teaching them to defend themselves against walkers were easy. Walkers were stupid and they were slow, unless they got riled up. But the biggest problem was other humans. Maggie learned to fear humans more than walkers. Walkers were nothing more than mindless beasts. Her experience with the Governor, the cannibals from Terminus, the Wolves and of course Negan makes her fear her fellow human being much more than walkers.

Jesus need to train a few capable young men and women to accompany him on his scavenges. She need to collect enough to feed Hilltop, satisfy Negan and bullshit Rick with. If Rick thinks for one second she is going to allow them to starve these people, he’s got another thing coming. And may the Lord help her, but she will approach Negan for assistance before she allows Rick Grimes to hurt these innocent people.


End file.
